Love Who You Love
by Agent Romanov
Summary: A collection of MCU pairing prompts, including almost any ship. Mostly fluff, angst if I'm in a bad mood.
1. Traditions (Clintasha)

**A/N: Before I begin this prompt collection, you readers (if I get any) will need to know a few things about my writing.**

**1. I won't/can't write smut.**

**2. I won't write any pairings that include the characters Grant Ward or Loki. **

**Other than that, I'm pretty much up for anything. In your prompts, feel free to mention songs that remind you of the pairing, I'll listen to them. It makes it much easier for me to write that way. Lastly, the title refers to a song by Rascal Flatts, which is an excellent song you should definitely go listen to.**

**I'm starting this off with Clintasha because they're my OTP.**

**Traditions**

Once a month, life and weather permitting, the four most powerful women of SHIELD met on the roof of Stark Tower, to relax and drink and avoid their idiotic coworkers and subordinates. On this particular night, all the male Avengers except Tony were on assignment or out of the country, or realm in Thor's case.

First to arrive was Pepper, of course, because she lived at the Tower. She had Tony set up a well stocked bar and then leave the premises, on the grounds that this was girls-only, no exceptions. Not even for the owner of the building.

Next to arrive was Natasha. Clint's absence left her extremely bored and without hindrance from any activity that he would normally ruin, such as arriving to a gathering early rather then fifteen minutes late. She greeted Pepper and went straight to the bar, quickly pouring herself a drink and downing it in one.

May and Maria entered simultaneously, a few minutes late. The look of annoyance on their faces made it clear they were not late by choice.

"I swear, Phil's team is going to drive me insane. Pour me a shot, Natasha. " Maria said in greeting.

"Try living with them." May returned darkly, accepting the glass of wine Pepper offered.

"Phil's a great guy." Pepper defended.

"Its not that their bad, its that they're amateurs. Two SciOps agents that are five year olds in disguise, a Level 1 hacker, and a Level 7 specialist that's just as nerdy as Phil. I swear, if Phil doesn't stop with this team dad shit, I'm going to send him back to Tahiti." May explained.

"Yeah, he always was the paternal type. Clint called him dad and old man just to bother him." Natasha said, with a tinge of wistfulness underneath her annoyance.

"So how's SI?" Maria asked Pepper.

"Stark Industries is fine, but Tony needs a new hobby. His tinkering is going to get us all killed." Pepper huffed. The women went over to the bar, having finished off their first drinks quickly. Pepper knew tonight would be the kind where they would all drink too much but she would be the only one to have a raging headache tomorrow. Those SHIELD women sure could hold their liquor. Maria and May kept a bottle of scotch between them, while Pepper kept to chardonnay, and Natasha kept her hand wrapped around a bottle of premium Russian vodka, refilling her shot glass as soon as the previous was gone. They chatted until the sun set over the city, then they relaxed in silence. The tower was so high, they could barely hear the cacophony of New York. It was the one night of the month when they didn't have to worry as much as usual.

In the darkness, May noticed the bright rectangle of a phone screen in Natasha's lap.

"Hand it over, Rookie, you know the rules. No outside contact unless its an emergency. " May ordered, holding her hand out expectantly.

"You were my SO eight years ago, I'm not your rookie anymore." Natasha replied petulantly, handing over the phone.

"Who were you texting?" Pepper asked.

"Clint. He's been gone for a week and a half on a mission, he was scheduled for briefing tonight." Maria answered for Natasha. May smirked and Natasha fought to keep her ivory skin from blushing red.

"I was not." Natasha lied evenly.

"Really?" Pepper rolled her eyes. May quickly unlocked the phone and went through the most recent notifications.

"Oh look, a text from, I wonder, Clint Barton." Maria said sarcastically.

"Ok, well, we have a sort of rule for when one of us gets back from a mission. I was supposed to meet him at the SHIELD airfield." Natasha defended.

"You can see him any night, this is tradition. " Pepper reasoned. Natasha nodded and they went back to relaxing, but none of them could ignore the next dozen beeps from her phone.

"What could possibly be so important that he can't wait until tomorrow? " May wondered aloud.

"Who knows? That idiot might be perched on a street lamp and gotten stuck. " Natasha replied. Just then, a thump resounded as an arrow planted itself in the side of the Tower. A whizzing ensued, followed by a much louder thump and a groan. First a set of hands appeared, then a shock of dirty blonde hair, then the rest of the purple and black vested SHIELD agent, Clint Barton.

"Clint!" the four women exclaimed. Three of the four sounded annoyed, but the fourth and youngest struggled to keep her excitement in check.

"What are you doing here?" Natasha asked. The rest looked to Clint for the answer. He put his hand to the back of his reddening neck.

"Well, uh, I came to see you." Clint began, looking at Natasha. "I just finished my mission."

"I put that much together. " Natasha replied. She had trained her even tone into a cold scoff, and Clint looked a little hurt, but nodded.

"You know the rules, Barton." May warned.

"Yes, because I, the man who doesn't follow half of SHIELD's rules, give a damn about rules set by you four. I'm not afraid of you." Clint replied sarcastically. Natasha's eyes widened at his idiocy, while Pepper just rolled her eyes. Maria and May took threatening stances.

"You're in front of four women who can destroy you verbally, and three of whom who can obliterate you physically. Two of those have the power to demote, suspend, or terminate you." Natasha counted off warningly. Clint looked around at his opposition. Huffing, he shot another arrow into a nearby, lower building and jumped off the roof, swinging into the night.

The women stood in silence for a moment after his departure.

"I'm surprised you didn't side with him, Natasha." Pepper noted.

"Why?" Natasha asked neutrally.

"Most people would side with the person they're dating." Pepper replied, making Natasha nearly choke on her drink.

"Dating?" Natasha repeated dumbly.

"Come on, it's so obvious." Maria declared.

"We're not dating." Natasha stated flatly.

"Believe me, I know what it looks like when two young agents are dating." May assured her.

"Like you and Phil in your glory days?" Natasha teased.

"That's classified." May replied sharply.

"That's cute." Pepper commented, making the other three roll their eyes.

"That's enough." Hill cut off the conversation. Even within the group, if she heard of anything against protocol, she would be bound to report it. As the moon rose higher over the city, the women retired to their spaces in the Tower. Tony had provided apartments for all the SHIELD agents that he didn't completely hate or mistrust. Natasha, however, stayed on the roof. A familiar thump ensued. Clint appeared and came up behind Natasha, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"I thought they'd never leave."

"I thought you'd never be dumb enough to show up." Natasha retorted.

"Are you really mad?"

"Yes, I had to deal with them going on about there being something between us."

"Isn't there?" Clint asked as he turned her around to face him. He pinned her to the railing as she put her hand on his neck.

"Why, I don't think there's anything between us whatsoever." She replied, looking up innocently through her long lashes.

"Thank God." Clint mumbled as he pulled her in for a kiss.


	2. The Days of Their Youth (Philinda)

**Uh well I got bored so here's some Philinda/Coulvalry. If you don't know who that is, they're from Agents of SHIELD which you should definitely watch. **

**Side note: I got my inspiration from Piano Man by Billy Joel.**

**The Days of their Youth**

"I hate undercover, " May muttered, not for the first time, nor the last.

"I know, but we have to," Phil replied. "Normally I'd send Skye and Ward but due to recent developments, Ward is never going to be in the same continent as Skye ever again."

"Overprotective." May reminded him.

"Appropriately protective." Phil insisted.

"She can take care of herself." May cared about everyone on her team, but she believed unwaveringly that Skye had an inner strength to match an army.

"She shouldn't have to." Phil protested. Of course he knew she was strong, and cunning, but he was tired of seeing her get hurt. Both Phil and May realized they'd fallen into one of their infinite debates. They'd talked about this many times, and neither had changed the other's mind. They probably never would, but it kept coming up anyway.

"Let's just focus on the mission." May steered them back to their original conversation.

"It's pretty simple. We need to find out if Mr. Charles Wilhelm is looking for new business partners. We go in, socialize, and see if he makes an offer. Can you be ready in an hour?" Phil laid out the plan as he pulled up the SHIELD file on Mr. Wilhelm.

"Not a problem." May answered quickly then disappeared to her quarters. Once inside, she began to get ready. She curled her hair into soft curls, then pulled it up partially, twisting little diamond pins into her dark hair. She put on a midnight blue dress and heels, then grabbed her black silk clutch.

Skye came in to bring May her comms, as instructed by Fitzsimmons, and gasped audibly at what she saw. May tried to retreat into her usual stoicism, but nonetheless gave a soft smile.

"Wait here," Skye said suddenly, tossing May the comms and leaving towards her bunk. She reappeared after a moment with a small black velvet box in her hand. Skye opened it to reveal two stunning silver and diamond dangling earrings.

"I can't," May started, but faltered when Skye gave her a pleading look. Part of the strength May saw in her was her ability to make people do almost anything with just a look from those big brown eyes of hers. May took the earnings graciously and put them on.

Downstairs, Trip, Fitzsimmons, and Coulson waited anxiously. The gala was in an hour and they didn't want to draw attention to themselves by being late. Noting Skye's absence, they got even more anxious. Since Skye had begun training under May, anytime they were together had the potential to mean mischief. Yes, these ladies were a force to be reckoned with. Skye came first down the spiral staircase, followed by May, who looked uncharacteristically shy. When the rest of the team saw her, the room was filled with silent shock. Jemma's eyes widened and she nearly dropped Phil's comms. Trip and Fitz exchanged a look of surprise, and Phil simply stared. What he saw, he had not seen for many years. Tonight, it seemed, he would be accompanied not by Agent May, but by Melinda. Soft, sweet, happy Melinda. He had known her once long ago. May recognized the look on his face, and the years melted away. They were Level 5 agents when they'd been partnered together. They'd been a wild pair, but incredibly successful in the field, not unlike Agents Barton and Romanoff.

"Let's get going, shall we?" May said to break the silence.

"We shall." Ph replied and lead her to the cherry red 1962 Corvette known as Lola. As May walked from the front of the car to the passenger seat, she dragged a finger along the shiny red paint. In a few minutes they were gone, and the team was still mute. Fitz broke the silence with an awed remark.

"I can't believe she touched Lola."

At the gala, they went around and chatted with all the guests, then moved towards their target. He was at the bar ordering a drink when Phil walked up to him and shook his hand.

"Mr. Wilhelm, I don't mean to waste your time but I'd like to thank you for inviting me and my wife tonight. It's quite a lovely place you have here." Phil said as he gestured to Melinda, who smiled and held out her hand. Mr. Wilhelm took it and instead of shaking her hand, placed a feather light kiss on her knuckles. Internally repulsed, May fought the urge to punch him in the face. Who was he, a scumbag with his finger in every pie the black market offered, to kiss her hand? Phil sensed her rage and wrapped his arm around her waist to comfort her and remind her of the mission. They made pleasant conversation for a while. Phil was careful to imply both wealth and interest in a new business venture. He told Charles, as he insisted he was called, that diamonds suited him but he was looking for something even more lucrative. Melinda chatted with Charles' wife, Mary, and discovered that Mary was completed unaware of her husband's affairs. There was no way Charles would make businesses offers with her around.

"Phil, why don't we let them alone for a while, and we can go dance?" Melinda offered. Phil nodded and led her out to the dance floor. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek lightly, whispering the information to him. He nodded and waited for Fitzsimmons confirmation that they also had heard her. They danced for a few more songs, he held her close and she rested her head on his shoulder. Their youth came back to them as they remembered the first gala they'd attended as partners. They'd never danced before and she'd stepped on his toes a dozen times. He'd had no idea how to hold her and eventually had to ask if he was allowed to put his hands on her waist. Despite their clumsy attempt at blending in on the dance floor, the mission had been successful.

"I was just thinking about the first time we did this." Phil confided to her.

"So was I. Oh that night was such a mess. We hardly stumbled through one dance." May laughed lightly.

"It was a great night, though, afterwards. We went to that rooftop restaurant and watched the sun set." Phil remembered the taste of the champagne as they celebrated their success and how her orange dress was the exact same color as the sun over the water.

"The sunsets in the Caribbean are more beautiful than anything else I've ever seen." May replied as she reminisced about that night. Phil looked down at Melinda, at the diamonds in her hair sparkling like stars, her inky blue dress.

"I've seen much more beautiful things." Phil told her. She blushed slightly, and Phil fought the urge to laugh. He hadn't seen her blush for years, not since she'd accidentally spilled coffee all over Alexander Pierce, who had been the Director of SHIELD when they were first partnered together.

The pair stayed a little while longer at the gala before they left.

"I can't believe you wouldn't let the valet take Lola." May said when they got outside.

"He might have wrecked it!" Phil defended. As they walked the half mile up the hill to where he'd parked, May slipped off her heels.

"Those were killing me," she complained.

"Do my ears deceive me, or is The Cavalry admitting pain?" Phil smirked.

"Don't call me that." May snapped, trying to hide her reluctant smile.

"So, should we head back to the Bus or spend the rest of this wonderful evening in a shady bar on the edge of town?" Phil wondered aloud sarcastically.

"Hm...I wonder." May smirked as she hopped in Lola. They drove too fast to a bar that played their music too loud. Upon entering, they ordered two triple whiskeys and sat in a booth in the back. They tried to stay quiet, they really did, but when May went to get their third (or maybe fourth?) round, some jackass made a filthy proposition that earned him a punch to the throat. Phil ran to her side and as the man writhed on the ground, his buddies stepped up. Phil gave Melinda a sideways glance and grinned boyishly. They knocked half a dozen to the floor before booking it out of there, pushing Lola to 95 as they sped towards the Bus. Time had slowed down for them that night, and they only realized it was one in the morning when the clock on the dash brought them back to the present. They snuck quietly through Bus, but stopped in their tracks when a lounge chair spun around dramatically, revealing Skye with her eyebrows raised and a mild smirk on her lips.

"Shouldn't you be in your bunk?" Phik asked with all the authority he could muster. May rolled her eyes and waited for Skye's reply, which came quickly.

"Shouldn't you be sober?" she snapped.

"I don't think you really have the authority to reprimand us." May told her.

"Maybe not as agent of SHIELD, but as a member of this team and family, I do. You had us all scared to death. You two were supposed to be back by 10! And getting drunk after a mission? Even I know that's not protocol. " Skye replied sharply. May looked to Phil and furrowed her brow at the grin lighting up his face.

"Just like the good old days," Phil said in explanation. May smiled.

"Now we all need to go to bed." May pulled Skye up from her chair.

As May and Phil laid in their bunks, they were thinking the same thing. It was wonderful to reminisce about the glory days, but things nowadays were pretty damn good too.


	3. No Use Crying Over Spilled Coffee

**Ok guys time for a less popular ship, Blackpepper (Pepper Potts and Natasha Romanoff), which I accidentally started shipping when I went on the tag on Tumblr. Oops. Oh well. **

**No Use Crying Over Spilled Coffee**

"I'll have a caramel machiatto with extra whip and a quadruple espresso to go." the strawberry blonde businesswoman ordered as she stood at the front of the line. She checked her watch but shook her head, knowing her boss would be late so it wouldn't matter if she was a few minutes behind schedule. The server handed her a cardboard tray and she took it with a gracious smile. As she headed toward the door she bumped (quite literally) into a petite woman, spilling her machiatto across the dark wood floors. She looked up to apologize and stoped short.

"Natalie?" Pepper asked. She knew of course that Natalie was probably not her real name, considering she'd seen her on the news as the notorious Black Widow, but didn't know what else to call her.

"It's Natasha actually, Miss Potts." Natasha corrected with a small smile. She turned to the workers at the counter, gave a saccharine smile, and called over to them. "Would you make her another and charge it to me?"

Her request was answered with eager nods and the hasty shuffling of equipment, and in record time, Pepper had a new cup.

"Wow, I should get coffee with you every morning." Pepper joked before taking a sip of her coffee. Natasha smiled softly and opened the door for Pepper. When they were walking towards the Tower, Natasha turned to Pepper.

"Maybe we should."

She hailed a cab and disappeared, leaving Pepper with a sudden suspicion that their chance meeting wasn't a coincidence after all.

**So what did you guys think? Anyway, feel free to send prompts any time.**


	4. Like an Old Photograph

**Ok so this is more angsty and sad but it's Steggy so that's a plus**

**Like an Old Photograph**

Steve hailed a cab in the pouring rain. The cab driver looked at him in the rear view mirror and a look of recognition passed over him.

"Where to, Captain?" the man asked, revealing a heavy Brooklyn accent.

"The nearest Sears Roebuck, please. " Steve answered, stumbling when he remembered it was just called Sears now. He and the cab driver, a man named Brent, made pleasant conversation on the way there. As he went to pay his fare, Brent shook his head.

"You and your team saved my little girl during the invasion. It's the very least I could do."

Steve nodded his thanks and left the cab. He walked through the store to the picture frames. Natasha had told him his apartment was much too bare and Steve had developed a love of photography since he was introduced to the high quality cameras of the 21st century. He looked at every frame carefully until one caught his eye. It was an ornate silver pattern with the words "Memories" in beautiful script at the bottom. He quickly bought the frame and headed home to find his picture of Peggy and the Howling Commandos. He slipped the photo into an envelope and put the frame in a gift bag. He walked down the block and caught another cab to the nursing home where Peggy lived. The nurses nodded at the familiar visitor and Steve walked down to Peggy's room.

He rapped lightly on the door and smiled when her eyes lit up with recognition.

"I got a present for you Peggy." Steve said softly. She grinned and the years melted away for a moment. He handed her and she delicately opened the gift, folding the tissue paper with shaking, arthritic fingers. She held the frame up and ran her fingers over the smooth relief.

"Oh I haven't seen them in years, I miss them so. She was so sweet and he was so funny." Peggy said reminiscently. Steve frowned, still holding the envelope. He looked and the frame and sighed softly. Peggy had recognized, or thought she'd recognized the people in the stock photo that came in the frame. Steve gently took the frame from her hands and replaced the photo with the Howling Commandos photo and handed it back to Peggy.

"Now who are these young men? That one in the middle... he looks like Steve... but he's been gone for years... " Peggy broke off with tears in her eyes. Steve bowed his head and gave a small smile to mask his pain as his heart broke in two.

**Sad, right? I had two inspirations for this story. 1) In Color by Jamey Johnson 2) this actually happened when my great grandmother got Alzheimer's so yeah this was harder to write**


	5. Abundance of Stars in the Sky

**Ok time for some Thane, which I have never written before and may or may not suck.**

**Abundance of Stars in the Sky**

Jane reached her hand up and focused her telescope, clarifying the brilliant stars above her New Mexico laboratory. She chose this small town for her research because of the minimal light and smog pollution that allowed her to gaze upon the cosmos with little hindrance. Her eyes fell upon a bright arc of stars, reminiscent of a crown. She remembered Thor's final words to her as he returned to Asgard after the Convergence. _Just as the abundance of stars in the sky, so shall there be jewels in your crown, should you accept the place as Queen of Asgard._ Of course, she was tempted to accept his offer immediately, but she had studies to finish and affairs to get in order. Jane was, first and foremost, a scientist and she would not leave her post for an offer that would be waiting for her in a few months time. She hoped to continue studies from Asgard, but her current experiments had to be completed first. She smiled softly as she came across a particularly brilliant star. Of course she would someday wear a crown of jewels, but it meant even more to know that she was his shining star.

**Yeah sorry it's so short, but like I said, I've never written them before**


	6. Waking Up

**Back to AoS, this time it's Fitzsimmons. Major spoilers for anything past episode 16 so if you aren't caught up don't read this.**

**Waking Up**

His brain was a computer. A computer that had been in standby mode for months. No one knew for sure if it would run flawlessly when he woke up. She was afraid of losing her genius best friend, but then felt guilty for not being grateful to have him still alive. So when he was on the edge of waking up, she was preparing to give his brain a jump start without having a surge. She wanted to stimulate memories but not flood his mind with a dizzying amount of thoughts. She hoped he would be the same, and prayed that he would at least remember the people. Even if he didn't have the files in the right order, she hoped they were there. She hoped the file entitled 'Agent Ward' had Hydra in it. She wasn't sure she could watch his faith in humanity die all over again. She wanted so badly to see him all in order, with that perfect brain hidden under wild curls and that sparkling intelligence in his electric blue eyes. So with a little searching, she found the perfect spark, the best possible way to begin rebuilding. It was something he loved, that never changed.

When his heart rate began to rose, she cleared the room, claiming she needed the space. She knew that they knew she needed to be alone with her partner. His eyes fluttered open as she grabbed his hands, strong and calloused and scarred. She poured her heart out wordlessly from her golden brown eyes to his blue orbs. His eyes were clouded, like a startup menu. Then she held up the spark and it worked like a password. His eyes sharpened. He was alert looking from the object in her hands to her smiling face. His smile matched hers brilliantly, then wilted. Her brows furrowed.

"Jemma?" he whispered.

"Yes, Fitz?" she answered softly.

"Is Hydra still...?

"No, Fitz. We won." He visibly relaxed then took the object from her hands. He pulled it close and breathed in the scent of her vanilla hand lotion. She hadn't let go of it for days. He set it on the bedside table and motioned for her to sit next to him. Soon they were asleep, her head on his chest and her hands entwined in his. For once, they were safe, guarded by their little stuffed monkey.


	7. Arrow

**More Clintasha.**

**Arrow**

Nimble but rough hands ran across her skin as she slept, clasping a small silver necklace around her neck. If it had been anyone but him, they would be dead and gone. He took a deep breath and kissed her temple on the edge of her fiery hair. She hummed softly in her slumber. He looked down at her sleeping form, curled in burgundy sheets and reveling in his warmth that had not yet disappeared from where he'd been a few minutes ago. He shook his head and got dressed, and left an arrow on the beside table. As a rule, they could not tell the other where they went on solo missions, but there was no rule that kept him from rigging arrows with a program that could be plugged into any SHIELD computer and give her clearance to see the mission details. Probably not for lack of trying on Hill's part, but she'd nearly given up on protocol with those two. The archer gave one last look at the room where his other half slept more peacefully than she had in weeks, then he left.

When she awoke, she rolled to the right, hoping to accidentally bury her head and chest and let him wrap his arms around her, but she found nothing but an empty bed. Frowning slightly, she instinctively pulled her hand to her neck and found a thin silver arrow, warm still from the way she curled up in her sleep. She pulled the pendant to her lips, then let it fall back to its place along the line of her prominent collarbones. She knew he had a mission, but she missed the warmth and comfort of his arms wrapped around her waist. She dragged a few fingers across her neck, clutching the silver like pearls. It wasn't a symbol of love or a promise of forever. It was a simple reminder, something to hold when he wasn't there to hold her. Suddenly, his warmth came back to her, making a blush roll up her neck as she buried her face in the pillow again. His presence stayed with her as sleep reclaimed her.

The delicate silver pendant represented all she needed in the world, because it was his.


	8. Commitment

**Pepperony. Angst. Also if you like these stories, there's an even better author clarawithfitzsimmonsin221b.**

**Also, shout out to Black Thorn who has reviewed almost all my stories but doesn't seem to have their messaging open. Thanks!**

**Commitment**

Pepper strutted into Tony's room, looking for a tie that would actually match his suit. She yanked open a drawer then stopped dead. A blue Tiffany's box sat alone in the drawer. Her blue eyes widened more the longer she stared at it. Carefully, she opened the box, trying not to crush the velvet. A modest but beautiful engagement ring glistened in the box, sparkling like a star. Then she realized exactly what it meant. Tony was going to propose her. Anthony Edward Stark, the least committal man on this earth, was going to propose to her. A moreover, she was going to say yes. They were going to get married. Her eyes welled up with tears of joy at the thought. Suddenly, a wave of guilt washed over her. She should not have seen this. Quickly, she wiped her eyes and grabbed a black silk tie for Tony. She walked softly to the living room, then found Tony by the bar. She carefully began to loop the tie around his neck until she met his eyes. His brow furrowed with worry.

"Have you been crying, Pep?" Tony asked. Pepper knew she couldn't lie about this.

"I saw the Tiffany's box." she whispered. A look of confusion dawned on him, followed by a look of pure fear.

"Tiffany's box, Pep, what are yo- Oh no. Oh no, that's not mine. Agent Coulson was going to give it to that cellist girl. He asked me to get rid of it after she moved back to Portland." Tony explained quickly. Pepper looked absolutely mortified.

"Did you really think it was mine? Do you really see me getting married, ever?" Tony asked in an incredulous whisper.

"I did, when I saw it. When I saw the ring, I saw you waiting for me at the end of the aisle with Rhodey as your best man. And if that's not where this is going, then why are we together?" Pepper replied, collecting her thoughts.

"Pep, you know how I feel about you. And you know how I feel about marriage." Tony reminded her. Those were the last words she heard from him. She walked out and never came back, and the last sound he heard from her was the same as the first sound he heard from her, heels clicking across the floor of the mansion where he was utterly alone.


	9. Compromised

**Oh look, more Clintasha!**

**Compromised**

Compromised. Exposed or made vulnerable to danger. That is what it means to be compromised. If you are compromised, you have put your reputation, your career and possibly your life on the line. In the business of doing evil to prevent greater evil, being compromised is not an option. There are many ways a SHIELD operative may be compromised. Their cover can be blown. They can be taken prisoner by the enemy. They can work for the enemy, by choice or by force. Worst of all, an operative may become attached to something or someone. This is the most dangerous way to be compromised. To be attached to something gives the enemy something to use against them, a tool, a wedge to be driven into them, splitting them in half.

"Natasha, Barton's been compromised." Phil's voice came regretfully through the phone. Natasha froze. Clint, her partner, was compromised. He had been taken hostage in a way, made Loki's prisoner. He was now a mind slave to a man who wished to tear down his world. He was compromised.  
-

"Your world in the balance, and you bargain for one man?" Loki questioned in a doubting tone. That was when it hit her. She had given to much away. Loki knew it too. He took everything he knew about her and used it to his advantage. "I won't touch Barton, not until I make him kill you. Slowly, intimately, in every way he knows you fear. And then he'll wake just long enough to see his good work and when he screams I'll split his skull! This is my bargain, you mewling quim!" Loki vowed, slamming on the glass. She had given him the tool, and he had split her in half.

"What did Loki do to you?" Clint asked. He broke me, using you, she thought miserably. She knew she had become too close with Clint, and now she was attached. And with that in mind, she told Clint she loved him in the the only way she knew how.

"I've been compromised."


	10. Excuses

**Even more Clintasha. Sorry if that's annoying you guys. I might try some Romanogers soon.**

**Excuses**

Clint Barton was a professional at excuses.

If his mission reports weren't satisfactory, it was because he'd been so worn by the mission that he could barely think straight, and Phil should be glad its even that good.

If a mission goes to hell, why, that was the damn bad guy's fault.

If he spends more time with Natasha than anyone else, well that's because they're partners. Just partners.

If he lets her invade his personal space and threatens anyone else who does so with death, that was just because he's known her for years.

If, every once in a while, she runs her hand through his hair, that's because she hates gus messy hair and she's trying to fix it.

If he brings her and only her a cup of coffee fixed just the way she likes, that's because he doesn't like to deal with an assassin with caffeine withdrawal.

If he feels a spark every time she brushes by, it's because he has supersensory observational skill.

If they ended up in a pile of blankets, watching movies until the wee hours of the morning, collectively taking up no more that a five foot circle, that was nature. Hawks and spiders do nest, after all.

If he feels a rush of adrenaline whenever she gave the little devious smile that meant she had an idea, why that was simply his body preparing to run like hell from Coulson or Hill.

Yes, Clint Barton was a master of excuses.

Coulson, however, saw right through them. So when Clint came in fifteen minutes late with a Starbucks mug in each hand, Phil put on a plastic smile and prepared to sit through a bullshit excuse.

"Sorry I'm late, I picked up coffee as an apology." Clint said breathlessly as he set a coffee, black with two sugars, on the Captain America shield coaster on Phil's desk. Coulson was shocked by the sincerity of it all, that Clint had not given any excuse but had tried to right his wrong. Phil took a sip of the coffee then began briefing Clint for his next mission, which was in a few days.

After the meeting, Clint stood to leave. He nodded to Coulson and turned towards the door before he heard Coulson's remark.

"I hope this means that you've stopped making excuses."

Clint smiled, and thought about the remark as he left into the corridor. He gave a small shake of his head when he realized that Coulson wasn't talking about excuses for being late. He made a sudden turn down the hall towards Natasha's bunk.

You're right, Coulson, Clint thought. I'm not making excuses anymore


	11. Here She Comes, There She Goes

**Sorry, I've been away from a computer for a few days. Anyway, here's some angsty Clintasha. Based on Here Comes Goodbye by Rascal Flatts and Settle for a Slowdown by Dierks Bentley.**

**Here it Comes, There She Goes**

He knew it was coming. He wasn't unobservant in the slightest, and she wasn't really trying to hide it. He knew she needed a new cover, and he knew she couldn't take him.

No, actually she could take him, but she wouldn't. Her past was hers, and she would never burden him with it. Her future was hers too, and she had to create it alone. Clint was okay with that, as long as he got her present, her right now, her every moment that came and went that was never his to hold again.

He pretended not to notice the insecure way she held herself, the way her arms wrap around her sculpted waist.

"I know. " he said tiredly before she could say anything. Her green orbs filled with surprise and pity, and she opened her mouth to talk before closing it again. They shared a charged silence, then she turned to the door. He grabbed her arm and she whipped around violently, glaring at his sudden movement. He looked at her deeply and she relaxed slightly.

"Goodbye." he whispered lowly. She nodded, and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. He led her to the door and followed her out into the driveway. She got into her 'vette and sped away, leaving him in the dust swirled road.

Clint turned toward the house, and determined sitting in the house alone was a detestable occupation, and settled in the center of the road, right on the faded double yellow line, watching her black car become nothing more than a dot on the horizon. As she disappeared into the sunset and night began to fall, the demons came out and Clint had to battle away the fear that she might never come back.


	12. Knowing

**Very short Clintasha thing because of Natasha letting all her secrets and aliases onto internet. Based on Take Me There by Rascal Flatts.**

**Knowing**

He had always wanted to know. Now that everything was online, he could Google anything he wanted to know about her. Clint looked to his phone, tempted, and she gave a small nod as if to say "you might as well." He furrowed his brow and she returned a simply tired face.

"You've wanted to know. Why don't you look?" she asked, with her eyes closed and her head towards the ceiling. He reach over and curled his forefinger underneath her chin and drew her towards him, until she was looking him dead in the eye.

"I want to know because you wanted me to know, not because the opportunity was simply there. I want you to trust me." Clint said softly. He looked in her eyes and silently pleaded, _take me there._


	13. Forevermore's a Memory

**Ok time for a slash fic. Steve bringing back some memories for Bucky, for . Based on I've Heard that Song Before by Harry James.**

**Forevermore's a Memory**

Steve sighed. He was running out of ideas. Every day he'd been to see Bucky in his ward at SHIELD, but his memory of the past was vague. Just then, a song came on the radio that Steve hadn't heard for years, or rather, decades. Memories of his childhood in Brooklyn flooded him. It was August, 1942, the third anniversary of his mother's death and Steve was struggling not to wallow in grief. And Bucky, of course, he was right there beside him, comforting him. The song ended and Steve came back to the present. It was his turn to be at Bucky's side, and he had the perfect way to bring back some memories.

Bucky was sitting in his bed when he heard the knock on the door. He knew it was Steve, it was always Steve.  
"Come in, Steve. You know you don't have to knock." Bucky said with a hint of his old joking superiority. Steve came in and closed the door behind him. He pulled a silver disk from his pocket and put it in a contraption that seemed to have similar functions as a radio. Steve turned the dial that controlled the volume and sat down next to Bucky. A familiar tune came through as Steve hummed along.

_It seems to me I've heard that song before_  
_It's from an old familiar score_  
_I know it well, that melody_  
_It's funny how a theme recalls a favorite dream_  
_A dream that brought you so close to me_  
_I know each word because I've heard that song before_  
_The lyrics said "Forever more"_  
_Forever more's a memory_  
_Please have them play it again_  
_And I'll remember just when_  
_I heard that lovely song before_


	14. Sparks

**Ok so I haven't been on in a while. sorry. ok so slash fic, Stony. another prompt from Stacy Charest, who has been a great help to me, especially since I don't personally ship this.**

Sparks flew as Tony sawed through the Chitauri armor. SHIELD was finally done studying the leftovers and they let him take a look at the alien technology. He was amazed not only by the mechanics but the ornate patterns in the weaponry. Here on Earth, the most advanced guns and grenade launchers were black and nondescript. They did their job, nothing more. This practice of having beautiful killing machines was a lost art, although an ironic one. He ran his index finger across the extremely dense metal and a static shock made him pull his finger away. Thinking nothing of it, he continued his work. A few hours later, he began to feel weak and a little feverish.

"Jarvis, run a body scan on me. I don't have to start drinking chlorophyll again, do I?" Tony ordered, shuddering at the thought of those green purees he'd downed when he had blood poisoning.

"Sir, you seem very ill, however it's not any disease I recognize." Jarvis replied.

"Thanks, J." Tony answered. He got right back to work.

* * *

Jab. Left hook, followed by a right. Jab. Steve pounded the bag in a familiar pattern mindlessly, just starting to break a sweat. He ran a few laps and cooled down, finishing off his morning warm-up. He toweled off and left the gym, heading towards his quarters in the Tower. He passed by the glass encased lab where Bruce and Tony worked in. He stopped when he noticed Tony working alone.

"Hey, Tony," he greeted as he closed the door behind him. Tony nodded acknowledgement and turned back to his work.

"Is that Chitauri?" Steve asked, inspecting the array of weapons.

"Yep, the pirate let me take a look." Tony answered nonchalantly.

"You really need to stop calling Fury 'the pirate' if you want to keep getting this kind of stuff." Steve advised. He looked up from the table and shock passed over him. Right in front of him, Tony was on the verge of collapsing. His skin was so pale Steve could see the veins in his temple. Beads of sweat dripped down his face amd his breathing was harsh and uneven.

"Tony, you're sick!" Steve exclaimed.

"I'm fine, Jarvis scanned me." Tony replied, getting back to his work.

"No, you need to rest." Steve ordered.

"Make me." Tony challenged. Steve grimaced for a second before picking Tony up in fireman's carry and taking him to their bed.

"If that's what you wanted, you could have just said so." Tony joked.

"Tony, be serious for just one second. You're extremely ill." Steve pleaded. Tony nodded and fell back against the pillows. Steve left and returned with a glass of water and a wash cloth.

"What's this all about?" Tony asked.

"Drink this," Steve instructed, handing him the glass. "You're dehydrated." Tony drank reluctantly and set the glass down. Steve gently patted his head with the damp wash cloth. Tony's breathing slowed and evened out until he was fast asleep.

Steve went to the kitchen and got a whole chicken from Thor's shelf in the fridge, figuring he wouldn't mind, as he was currently on Asgard. He quartered the the chicken and seasoned it quickly, then put it in the oven to roast. He chopped up carrots, celery, onions, and a few herbs. When the chicken was done, he deboned the chicken and put the stock in a large stockpot, along with some water and the vegetables. He chopped the chicken and dropped it into the pot, then added egg noodles. Steve had seen his mother make chicken noodle soup every time he was sick, which was often. He'd sit in the kitchen as she cooked, talking and watching the other boys play outside. When the soup was done, she'd pour into a bowl, and give him a spoon and a cookie for dessert. Remembering this, Steve reached up to the very top shelf and got a cookie from Clint's cookie jar, knowing he'd face the repercussions later. He ladled soup into a bowl, grabbed a spoon and went to his bedroom where Tony laid in bed sleeping. He looked even worse than before, going from pale to a sickly yellowish tone. Steve gently woke him and handed him the bowl.

"Wow this is great." Tony declared as he scarfed it down. Steve smiled softly and handed him the cookie. Tony grinned childishly and devoured it.

"You have it easy, you know." Steve commented. Seeing Tony's quizzical look, he explained.

"When I was a kid, they had all sorts of crazy remedies. I was so sick all the time, my mom tried anything. One of my biggest problems was asthma, so they gave me asthma cigarettes." Steve told him, watching Tony's eyes go wide.

"But cigarettes make your lungs worse." Tony said incredulously.

"Yeah, they didn't really do anything. They usually had some sort of flavor, like menthols." Steve explained, remembering how tight his chest felt as he struggled to breathe. Tony leaned back against the headboard and set his empty bowl on the beside table. There was a mild clatter, and they spoon began to rise into the air. It stopped about two feet about the table as Tony suddenly felt weaker. Steve felt his blood run cold with fear. He shot up and grabbed the phone.

"SHIELD," Steve ordered into the receiver, "I need to talk to Agent Coulson immediately, it's an emergency!" He got a hold of Phil and explained what had happened.

* * *

By lucky chance, his team was flying over New Hampshire and reached the Tower in under and hour.

"Where is he?" a woman in a lab coat demanded as she entered the Tower, trailed by a young man who was watching something on his tablet. Steve pointed towards the bedroom, slightly surprised by the British accent that fell from her lips.

"The electrostatic signature is climbing, it's going to reach peak level in about 10 minutes!" her companion declared in a stressed Scottish accent. Phil came in and introduced them as Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz, better known as Fitzsimmons. Steve took this all in, trying to keep from shaking with nervousness. He mentally cursed himself for not calling someone earlier, and tried not to think about what would happen if Fitzsimmons couldn't save Tony. The scientists set up a centrifuge and soon had is whirring, then put a small bottle into a little injector.

"Ok Jemma, the vaccine's ready." Fitz handed her the injector.

"Antiserum." She corrected as she scurried to Tony's side. Steve quickly followed, his heart beating rapidly. Jemma pressed the injector to Tony's wrist and it emitted a shock that forced him to cry out. A pulse ran from him, making the lights flicker and the electronics go haywire, and then Tony passed out.

"What happened? Is he alright?! Is he..." Steve trailed off, swallowing hard. Jemma looked at Steve as if she had just noticed him.

"He'll be fine. I promise, it's been tested." She assured. "He had an alien virus, probably from a static shock from Chitauri armor. It seems more than one soldier was ill, perhaps a whole squadron. He's unconscious but he'll wake up soon."

"You didn't touch him, did you?" Phil asked. Steve breathed, trying to take it all in. Tony was safe, that's all that mattered.

"He can't have, he's not sick. We'd know by now if he contracted the virus." Jemma explained.

" I did touch him; I took care of him all day." Steve contradicted. Jemma's brow furrowed and her nose wrinkled in confusion.

"Maybe it's the super soldier serum." Fitz suggested. Jemma nodded slightly. Fitzsimmons started packing as Phil said goodbye to Steve.

"Thank you, all of you. I was so afraid, afraid he was gone..." Steve choked out, the emotions of the last hour finally crashing through him.

"It's the least we could do. We'd hate to lose him." Phil said with a nod to the bed where Tony laid. Steve shook Phil's hand, then thanked Fitzsimmons again.

* * *

He spent the rest of the night by Tony's side, thanking God he was still alive. When he finally woke up, he gave him an aspirin for his headache and they went to bed.

All night he was plagued by nightmares of losing Tony, but when he woke and felt his warmth and pulse against him, he was quickly comforted, and fell back to sleep.

**I would have liked to write more romanc-y stuff but you don't exactly kiss someone who's deathly ill, ya know?**


End file.
